Now and Then
by BelaBirch
Summary: Belarus still struggles with thoughts of Russia, but her husband, Estonia, can always bring her back to the present.


On nights like this it was hard to believe almost twenty years had passed. The scars were faded, hardly noticeable, but there were still days they itched and the skin felt stretched and tight. She felt like she was breaking open through the seams he'd created, openings that were never meant to be there. Those days were rare now, but still there were times she couldn't stop thinking of him. She would have nightmares for days on end, haunted by him whether she was asleep or awake. She tipped back and forth between nightmares of the times he'd hurt her and visions of the sweet words of desperate affection he'd given her. She lost count of how many days in a row she'd woken screaming and grabbing for Eduard. The words stuck helplessly in her throat when she tried to tell him how scared she was that she could still feel Russia's hands on her body. She wasn't sure if she was more upset at the thought of him coming for her, or the thought that he honestly didn't care enough about her to even try. That scared her. The realization that part of her still wanted him and craved his acceptance and love, disgusted her. She'd tried desperately to ward him off. She tried to keep him out of her mind, but thoughts of him pleading for her to stay and love him kept forcing their way back in. She did her best to fight back, hoping Eduard couldn't see the guilty look on her face. She replayed the insults Russia had hurled at her and counted every scar he'd put on her body. She spent hours silently describing his hatred and disgust for her. She still ended up in bed, seeking comfort in silence and darkness. Her kids laughing and talking, something that usually kept her grounded and focused, only aggravated her. They were nothing like Russia, they had no part in him and he had no part in them, yet they still reminded her of him in every way. She crawled into her bed, curling into the covers and hugging Eduard's pillow. His smell surrounded her and it started to calm her down. It seemed like she spent hours waiting for him in his bed. She replaced every thought of Russia with Eduard. She thought of the times he'd taken care of her in Russia's house. He'd nursed her back to health and encouraged her and brought her back to reality in some dark times. She'd gotten dependent on him so quickly, and she didn't regret it. It wasn't the kind of dependence she'd had with Russia. It didn't scare her that way, it never reared it's ugly head or left her begging to die quickly. Being with Eduard wasn't painful, and she never questioned that he would be in the bed with her in the morning when she woke up. She tried to smile when he came into the room, and the sight of him almost did it, but she felt so guilty seeing him. Here she was, cowed in bed, because thoughts of her ex were overwhelming her mind. How could she face her husband? He deserved every part of her and times like this made her wonder if maybe she was still holding a few things back. "Bela?" he said, his voice a little confused. "The kids are wreaking havoc in the living room…Kaisa was crying about her dirty diaper…" She stared at him as he came closer, loosening his tie. He stopped and raised his hand to turn on the light. But a look at her, his eyebrows folding, made him think better of it. All she could say was "Oh." She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the room, honestly. She remembered getting up that morning. She'd faked a smile as she waved Eduard off to work to keep him from suspecting how much she was struggling. She'd tried to stay out there with the kids but as she followed her usual routine, their constant demand for her attention was too much for her. She couldn't focus on them and she felt close to smacking them a couple of times. But she couldn't say how long she had tried before she succumbed to her thoughts and retreated to the bedroom, only that she hadn't left since. He sighed deeply and sat on the bed, his frustration obvious. He always got frustrated when he had to deal with her problems; she hated to get him involved. If she didn't do a good enough job of pretending to be fine, he might find someone else and leave her. The thought of him getting tired of her and leaving didn't bother her often anymore, but at times like this, it crept back into her thoughts and terrified her. It made her feel like she was digging her own hole, while desperately trying not to get dirty. He started to talk and she felt a seizing in her heart, her throat closing as if her body understood her desire to die and was promising to take care of it for her. She didn't have any idea what to say, but she knew she didn't want to hear him talk. She grabbed his hand quickly, squeezing it and catching his eye. He sighed again and squeezed her hand back. He let her pull him into bed with her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She wondered if he could feel the way all the tension let out of her body when he held her in his arms. She let out a breath and closed her eyes against the tears she could feel in her eyes. She pressed back against him and finally let herself cry, something she'd been holding back all day long. He whispered soft things to her, getting her to turn and face him, and resting his hand on the back of her head. His hand stroked her hair softly, his chin on her head. "He's not here. It's all done, you're with me." He whispered. "He'll never touch you again." It was more complicated than that. There was more at stake than just simple fear, but the knowledge didn't make it any easier for her to explain it. It didn't matter anyway. Whatever the specifics of her fear, it was true enough that she was desperately afraid. But lying there in his arms, her thoughts started to unfold and relax, twisting open and releasing the anxiety she'd been holding onto with a death grip all day long. Eduard's hands were on her now, not Ivan's. Eduard touched her every day, in so many different ways. He held her hand and smacked her butt and when they sat at the dinner table, his hand rested on her thigh. He touched her and never told her she was tainted, or second hand, even though she felt like she was. He knew that Russia was part of her. He knew that he was part of her past. No matter how much he hated Russia, or how many times she had betrayed him for Russia, it was the past. He didn't remind her of her mistakes every time he touched one of the scars Ivan had left. When she was with Eduard, she didn't think of Ivan. She kissed him softly, smiling at his soft lips. Her face felt like it was unsticking itself when she smiled and she felt so much better that she kissed him again. He pulled her against him, kissing her back. He smiled and stroked her cheek softly when she pulled away, and she admired the honest, almost naive expression on his face. "Feeling better?" he asked. His voice couldn't be more different than Ivan's. She grinned and nodded, kissing him softly again. "You have no idea."


End file.
